


And God Made Eve to Bear the Curse

by 7_wonders



Series: The Tall, Dark Stranger Those Warnings Prepared You For [4]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Period Sex, Smut, i cannot stress how much smut is in this, vampire!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7_wonders/pseuds/7_wonders
Summary: Michael wants one thing, and one thing only–to drink from the oasis between your thighs.
Relationships: Michael Langdon & Reader, Michael Langdon & You, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Series: The Tall, Dark Stranger Those Warnings Prepared You For [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455958
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122





	And God Made Eve to Bear the Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This is some filthy vampire Michael period smut. I’m so sorry, but I asked on Tumblr and nobody said that they wouldn’t be okay with it, so here it is. I've hesitated to even put this on Ao3, but we're doing it. Also if anyone knows where the title of this comes from I will be extremely impressed, as it’s kind of obscure.

All evening, Michael had been visibly strained. You hadn’t noticed, the research paper for an important grant you’re applying taking up all of your attention. The most attention he had gotten from you was a smile when you had appeared in his lush penthouse (_the Batcave,_ you often referred to it as). To you, nothing was out of the ordinary. An odd, clingy vampire was a part of your daily routine by now. Michael, however, is convinced that this must be a punishment from God himself for being the Antichrist.

It’s been so long since Michael’s taken a long-term lover that he’s forgotten about a lot of idiosyncrasies of the human race. While Michael once thought that there was nothing more enticing than the scent of the blood flowing through your veins, the temptation you’re unknowingly teasing him with easily overshadows what pumps just below your skin. 

Michael could _smell_ you. Michael could always smell you, of course, but this was completely different. This is the ichor that has driven many vampires mad, the gift that mortal women regard as a curse. The near-fatal mixture of blood and arousal almost drove Michael to his knees when he first smelled you tonight, the first time he had been lucky enough to play witness to your monthly bleed. The deep breaths that he takes in an attempt to ground himself do nothing but flood his entire body with your hypnotic scent, the conversation he tries to distract himself with drowned out by the thumping of your heart as it works overtime.

You’re a temptress, your heartbeat a siren’s call that threatens to drown Michael should he succumb to its’ crooning. The worst part is that you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, sitting entirely unaware on the couch as Michael fights himself to keep from losing control. Michael’s never been tortured, but he has to imagine that it would feel much the same as he does now. He’s resorted to biting his bottom lip, seeing how fast varying degrees of cuts made by his fang will heal. Michael is unable to keep his eyes off of your body, forlornly thinking about all that he would do to you if only you would realize that he’s most likely dying right next to you (an exaggeration, but that’s pretty indicative of vampires).

He’s snapped out of his self-pitying thoughts by the sudden lack of typing sounds filling the room. You shut your laptop, smiling at Michael when you notice him staring at you. Placing the computer on the expensive coffee table, you stretch your arms with a small moan and a flash of skin from your shirt riding up. A pained groan is trapped in the back of Michael’s throat, thankfully too quiet for your ears to pick up. The sudden movement of your limbs sends a fresh wave of your scent in Michael’s direction. While he tries to ignore it, clenching his eyes shut and reciting poems in Latin, his base instincts take over.

You let out a breathless shriek when Michael’s suddenly on top of you in a matter of milliseconds. His golden locks create a curtain around you, eyes flashing a deep burgundy while the familiar black veins track down his face. While this reveal of Michael’s vampiric nature scared you the first time you saw it happen, now it only serves to excite you. His hands forcefully hold your thighs apart, his silver ring digging into the soft skin on the back of your leg.

“Michael, what–” you fall silent when moves down towards your core, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply.

“You did not think to tell me that you were bringing a treat along with you today?” His voice is deep, fangs prominent as he looks up at you.

“I don’t know what…” A twinge of pain in your lower abdomen has you squirming uncomfortably before remembering why you’re experiencing said twinge. “Oh, yeah. That.”

It’s not as if you deliberately forgot that you were walking into the home of your vampire lover while being on your period. In fact, you can guarantee that you would not have accepted his invitation if you had remembered. After a busy day, however, it slipped your mind that vampires and periods don’t mix. Your mistake, and it’s truly a mistake. If you had thought that Michael had looked ravenous the first time you found yourself in this position, he looks absolutely feral right now. He’s nearly shaking from the exertion of trying to hold himself back from tearing your clothes to shreds and taking what’s his.

“I have never met an enchantress quite like you, (Y/N). You have complete control over me; I am a mere slave when in your presence, and you aren’t even aware of it.” Michael rolls his hips against yours, a gasp escaping your lips. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering in ecstasy as he smells you again. “Let me taste you?”

“Wait, you want to eat me out?” _Now?_ You push yourself up on your forearms, staring at Michael apprehensively. The thought of Michael between your thighs, covered in your blood, is tempting, and it’s not as if you’re not incessantly needy when you’re on your period, but that’s still a level of intimacy that you’re not sure you would let anyone see. It’s not as if you feel sexy during this time of the month, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint him if you were to give in.

“_Yes_,” Michael says in exasperation. “I want to drink from between your thighs. You know I am not the type of man to beg, but I will do so if that will convince you.”

His eyes are wide, the red iris nearly completely blown out from lust. You feel yourself clench from the thought of Michael being driven completely mad from lust, the man letting out an anguished whine as he stares up at you. You nod silently, quickly, running a hand through your hair as you try not to overthink what you just agreed to.

“I need to hear you say it,” Michael mutters. “Say it or else I will go no further.”

“Please, Michael,” you whisper.

Michael wastes hardly any time, removing your pants and your underwear in one swift move. You hear a sharp intake of breath from him as he looks at your cunt, dripping with a mixture of blood and arousal. You’re wet for him, wet in a way he’s never seen you before. He buries his face against your pussy, licking and sucking like he’s starving. The moment that your blood, hot and pulsing, collects on his tongue, his eyes roll back into his head.

“Oh!” you exclaim, throwing your head back as you grip at his golden locks. “Don’t stop, Michael!”

His hands grip your thighs impossibly tight, and you jolt when his fang nicks your sensitive folds (purposefully, you believe). If Michael looks this ruined just from tasting you, you can’t imagine how far gone you must look to be. You’re writhing underneath him, the pleasure derived from his ministrations against your already-sensitive cunt nearly too much to handle. You nearly cum when he makes eye contact with you, those animalistic eyes causing your heart to drop into your stomach. Michael’s throbbing, rutting his hips against the couch for any sort of friction as he continues to devour you. His tongue finds purchase inside your pussy, collecting every single drop of blood available to him.

“_Mi-Mi-Michael!_” you call out, smacking a hand against the edge of the couch while your toes curl and your thighs shake. 

Even if Michael weren’t acutely familiar with every part of your body, he would still be able to tell that you’re about to cum. One long, hard suck against your clit has your vision blurring and your chest heaving, waves of pleasure crashing into you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm with his mouth. Your orgasm triggers another rush of arousal and blood into his mouth, and he moans delightedly.

Michael finally seems satisfied, coming up from between your legs and watching as your chest heaves and you try to catch your breath again. You stare at him with your mouth agape, the sight of him disheveled and with blood (your blood) all over his face enough to have you considering round two. Michael smirks at your expression, licking his full lips and wiping at his face to try and collect anything he’s missed.

“Care for a taste?” Michael says, flashing his bloody fangs at you.


End file.
